[cityscape] [a derp crew superhero au kinda]

two criminals and a cop walk into a room, diametrically opposed

wooo!!! The plot is picking up for once!!

---

"Yeah, can I request backup at..." Tom pauses to glance around the room, searching for some sign of where they are. "At.... at the shady looking turtle store. You know which one I'm talking about."

There's a chuckle from the other end of the call. "A'ight man, I got you."

"Thanks Max," Tom says. He hangs up, then looks down pitifully at his crushed radio on the ground.

Damn. He just got that one, too.

Tom then looks up at the dead body laying across a countertop. He shakes his head in disapproval, then leans back against the wall to wait.

A robbery turned into a murder-suicide case. How pleasant. Tom is actually quite tempted to light some of the incense sitting on the counter by the body, but he's also pretty sure that's not good for the turtles.

There's some rustling in the back of the store. Tom stands up, fully alert.

A soft clack is heard, as if something bumped into a shelf. Tom reaches for his gun out of habit. He begins to creep towards the shelf, gun out and ready to attack whatever might be lurking.

He turns a corner, and is suddenly face to face with a strange man who is also holding a gun. Tom is quick to move, giving the man a harsh uppercut to the bottom of his jaw.

Unfortunately, the stranger is quicker. He shoots his gun before Tom makes any contact, a bullet flying straight into Tom's arm. It sends him backwards into some shelves and slamming into his side. He gives a cry of pain, his ears left ringing from the gunshot. Of course, though, he has no time to worry for his safety. He's in the middle of a fight.

The stranger stumbles backwards, clearly in pain. Tom aims his gun at him using his good arm.

"Who the fuck are you, and why did you shoot me," he demands, hardly making it a question.

The man just spits at him. "Fuck off cop, I'm here for my payment-" He then moves to pull something out of his pocket.

Tom pulls the trigger and whoops, his gun isn't even loaded. He settles for throwing the gun at the man as hard as he possibly can instead. The robber falls unconscious.

He grunts in pain as he moves to check the rest of the store. Given that a previously closed door (one of the back doors) is now open, Tom would like to assume he picked the lock and snuck in.

(In his defense, it's very hard to secure a building on your own. Fuck this city's shitty police department.)

Red and blue begin to flash through the windows, and Tom smiles. The backup is here, so now Tom can go get this bullet out of his arm.

--

"God, Tom, how do you always do this?" The doctor, a friendly, calm lady named Jessica, is grumbling to herself as she digs for the bullet. "It went in further than expected. How far away were you when he shot you?"

Tom shrugs. "I dunno. Within punching distance." He laughs at the awestruck look on her face at his response.

"That's- that's not good, Tom! What if he shot you in the chest?!" She lightly smacks his chest for emphasis.

He laughs weakly (it kinda hurt) and shrugs. "I have a bulletproof-"

"Still could've fractured a couple ribs, dammit. Pull up your shirt, I need to check for wounds." Jess doesn't even wait for him to start moving- she yanks his shirt up, carefully examining his torso by his arm.